


i wanted to see the world (but i found it in your eyes)

by comfortcharacters



Series: thread fics [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, Haircuts, M/M, Mutual Pining, why is there no quarantine hashtag we've been in quarantine for a year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29626371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comfortcharacters/pseuds/comfortcharacters
Summary: It’s approximately one month into quarantine when Atsumu comes up to Sakusa, sheepishly holding a pair of scissors in his hand. Sakusa looks up from his book, bemused, while Atsumu scratches the back of his neck.“Hey, Omi... mind giving me a haircut?”(or, sakusa and atsumu discover the intimacy of a quarantine haircut)
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: thread fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2176782
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69
Collections: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021





	i wanted to see the world (but i found it in your eyes)

**Author's Note:**

> written for SakuAtsu Fluff Week, Day 8: quarantine
> 
> &
> 
> originally published on twitter!

It’s approximately one month into quarantine when Atsumu comes up to Sakusa, sheepishly holding a pair of scissors in his hand. Sakusa looks up from his book, bemused, while Atsumu scratches the back of his neck.

“Hey, Omi... mind giving me a haircut?”

Sakusa frowns. “A haircut? Your hair looks fine.”

“Are ya kidding me? It’s longer than it’s been in years. And, god,” Atsumu shudders, and Sakusa snorts, “I don’t want to repeat the disaster of 2014.”

Sakusa pretends he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, since he wasn’t on the team at that point, but he was still keeping up with Atsumu on social media. So, unfortunately, he knows exactly what Atsumu’s remembering.

Atsumu’s long hair was... interesting. His grown-out roots clashed atrociously with his piss yellow tips. He hadn’t discovered toner yet (or, apparently, a barber after moving from his hometown). But, despite looking like a walking paintbrush, Atsumu was still infuriatingly attractive back then.

He’s _more_ infuriatingly attractive now, the two-toned tresses falling over his face in a swoop, even as Atsumu frowned at his reflection in the mirror and huffed in annoyance.

The return of long-haired Atsumu made Sakusa almost grateful for the quarantine.

“Omi?” Atsumu asks, surprisingly tentative, and Sakusa snaps back to reality.

Right. Long-haired Atsumu would be no more. It’s tragic.

“Yeah, okay. Go wash your hair and meet me in the kitchen. I’ll get something set up while you’re gone.”

He’ll have to mourn for surfer-boy Atsumu tonight in private, anyway. It’s not like he can call up a friend or, god forbid, _Komori_ to talk about this with. He’d never let him live it down.

But as Atsumu leaves to take a shower, the reality hits him suddenly: haircuts are exceedingly intimate. Haircuts are personal. Does Atsumu really trust him with something as priceless as his appearance?

The thought of it makes a funny feeling unfold in Sakusa’s chest, and he does his best to subdue it by the time Atsumu makes his way out of the shower, towel wrapped around his shoulders, remnants of water droplets cascading down his neck.

Sakusa takes a steadying breath. It’s going to be a long hour.

“Take a seat, Atsumu,” Sakusa murmurs, arranging his scissors and fiddling with the chair he set up. Atsumu compiles, grinning cheekily at Sakusa, and somehow the long hair falling around his temple makes his smile softer, more subdued. Or maybe that’s just a consequence of spending the better part of four weeks by each other’s side, with no one else left in the dorms to keep them company as the world implodes around them.

Atsumu smiles, and Sakusa feels helpless to do anything but smile back.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Sakusa manages to say, situating himself behind Atsumu and arranging the floor-length mirror from the living room in its new place.

And, oh, if Sakusa was prepared for the feeling of looking at Atsumu from behind, he wasn’t ready for the feeling of seeing him and Atsumu in the mirror, for the subtle glances he would get from Atsumu in their reflection. He wasn’t ready for how softly, how _tenderly_ Atsumu looks at him as he takes each strand and does his best to make them even.

“Let me know if it’s too short,” Sakusa says, avoiding eye contact in the mirror by focusing directly on the task at hand.

“Omi, you’re giving me a _haircut_ in my time of need. Ya didn’t even make fun of me for it. Honestly, I’ll take anything ya would be willing to give me.” Atsumu says it with too much earnestness, and Sakusa’s fingers fumble in their path.

But he’s a man with a mission, and nothing if not a perfectionist. He’d be giving Atsumu the best haircut of his goddamn life.

He finishes up rather quickly, taking care to drag his fingers through his hair at every opportune time — just to check the length, and _definitely_ not to feel how Atsumu leans against his touch, how the soft strands almost melt between his fingers, how Atsumu almost whimpers when Sakusa gently runs his fingers through his fringe.

It’s a testament to Sakusa’s strength that he doesn’t drop the scissors then and there before dropping down to kiss Atsumu senseless.

He finishes off the job while Atsumu stares at the mirror in wonder, examining himself with pride.

“Jeez, Omi, ya did a great job! I look hot again,” Atsumu laughs, and Sakusa has to bite his tongue at the response that threatens to spill out.

“Glad you like it. Now you just need to touch up that awful dye job of yours.”

“Well, aren’t I lucky that I have ya to do that for me?” Atsumu teases, standing up to face Sakusa directly. The afternoon sunlight hits Atsumu just right, Sakusa thinks, and he’d think Atsumu’s an angel if not for the shit-eating grin he’s wearing.

“So, Omi,” Atsumu drawls, and Sakusa knows this can’t be good, “what do ya accept as payment?”

“Leave me alone for the rest of the day.” It would be a miracle. Sakusa hasn’t finished a book all week.

“ _Bullshit_. You’d be bored without me, so I know ya don’t mean that, Omi-kun!”

He doesn’t. Atsumu doesn’t need to know.

A grin makes its way across Atsumu’s face, and that can’t be good. Sakusa has to mentally prepare himself.

“What about a kiss for all your troubles?”

Sakusa’s brain short-circuits.

He didn’t do a good job preparing.

“A what?”

He must be losing it.

“A kiss,” Atsumu says, almost looking embarrassed now, “but forget it — I was just playin’ around. I’ll just head out—”

“No, actually,” Sakusa interrupts, since he’s definitely losing it at this point, “that would be fine.” Atsumu’s eyes go comically wide, and Sakusa really can’t believe he’s doing this.

“Oh,” Atsumu says, confidence back to a hundred, “so ya wanna kiss me, Omi-kun?”

“And what if I do?”

“Well, who am I to deny ya the pleasure?”

“Get over here, Miya.”

“Hey, what happened to _Atsumu_ —“

Sakusa promptly shuts him up, dragging his lips over Atsumu’s as Atsumu barely manages to take a breath.

It’s... warm. The sunlight bathes over them in their shared kitchen, the boiling tension of the last few weeks — maybe months, maybe even years — simmers over in a lasting glow, and it’s warm. It’s warm where Atsumu’s hand rests against the back of Sakusa’s neck, holding him close like he might just run away. It’s warm where Sakusa runs his fingers through the closely-cropped undercut of his own doing, promising Atsumu that he’s here to stay.

Maybe quarantine wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> a few friends wanted this on ao3, so I'll just transfer any thread fics here if people like them!
> 
> find me on my [twt](https://twitter.com/comfrtcharacter) for more rambles
> 
> also, the title is partially adapted from kyoto by phoebe bridgers


End file.
